


Star Trek Snippets

by Xenobotanist



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24565915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobotanist/pseuds/Xenobotanist
Summary: This is going to be where I dump all the little scenes that will never make it into any of my Star Trek stories. The updates will be pretty random.Ratings may change.Characters and tags will definitely change.
Relationships: Data/other, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Miles O'Brien
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. Daydream

“Garak!” a gravelly voice thundered into his shop from the promenade. “I don’t know what you’re doing to that mannequin, but it hardly seems consensual. If you keep it up, I’ll have to either send you to the lockup or the infirmary.”

Garak smiled enthusiastically. He held out his wrists, apparently waiting for manacles. “Ah! I choose Dr. Bashir. Do hurry, please.”


	2. The Game

Julian stared hard at his padd. Elim had been trying for near on 30 minutes to distract him now, but he wasn’t having it. He’d lost two battles in the past week already. Tonight, his partner had greeted him with a home-cooked meal, a low-cut (for a Cardassian, anyway) shirt, and the temperature turned up high enough to make him seriously consider shucking his uniform upon entry.

And now Elim was “tidying up,” flitting about the room to fluff an oft-abused pillow, to adjust the books on the shelf they’d jostled just last night, to idly brush some “crumbs” from Julian’s dinner that somehow made their way to the back of his neck.

A subtle scent carried over on the air currents. Something…lightly zesty and briny. Like salt and lime. Mr. Garak in his present state would pair well with a margarita.

Julian smiled to himself. He gave it ten minutes at the most before he would be hoisted off the couch and dragged into the bedroom.

He was winning.


	3. And Miles to Go

“Look, I do love you, you great lunk, just not that way.”

Julian’s face illuminated. He ducked in, wrapping a hand in the Irishmen’s curls, and gave him a quick press of the lips. No tongue, just soft and firm. Then he turned away and made off like nothing had happened. The contact had set off a quick curl of heat somewhere in Miles’ torso, almost enough to make him wonder.

He turned back to the open panel he’d been working on. Not that it mattered. As far as he could tell, Julian loved _everyone._


	4. Collecting Data

Geordi, Barclay, and Data watched the slim, tan doctor approaching their table.

“Julian! I’m glad you could make it. We were beginning to wonder if you would ever get out of that meeting with Dr. Crusher.” Geordi clasped his hand in welcome before sitting down with the small group.

“It’s good to be back on the Enterprise. Reg, Data,” he nodded to the other men.

The four friends settled into catching up on their most recent adventures aboard the Federation’s flagship and the last standing bastion between the Alpha Quadrant and the Dominion. Drinks were passed around, backs slapped, and general camaraderie was shared.

They became distracted when a lithe, green-eyed Gallamite strolled past. A hush settled.

Miraculously, Barclay was the first to find his voice. “She has the most beautiful brain I’ve ever seen.”

Geordi shook his head and smiled softly. “But it’s what she can _do_ with that brain that matters.”

Julian leaned in. “I hear she’s the cousin of Captain Boday.”

They tried to watch surreptitiously as she sat down at a table by the viewport. Alone. She stirred her drink dreamily.

“Too bad none of us would stand a chance with her,” Barclay said forlornly. Julian frowned.

Data spoke up. “Based on my initial assessment, I believe that Geordi would be the most suited to her temperament and therefore most successful in an intimate overture.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to him. Well, two pairs and visor.

“What do you mean?” Julian asked.

Data looked from face to face. “Just that based on my experiences with each of you, I have assigned personality profiles. I compared them to my summary of Ensign Luscia,” he nodded toward the Gallamite, “and the most common characteristics and interests match between her and Mr. La Forge.”

“Are you friends with Ensign Luscia?” Geordi was suddenly feeling an uncommon boost in his confidence.

“No.”

Everyone looked back at him.

“Then…how did you compose a…profile for the Ensign?” Barclay asked.

“We were physically intimate for 10 hours last week.”

Two pairs of eyes blinked. Geordi’s visor slipped a little.

Julian digested the information. “Then how do you know she would be _compatible_ with Geordi? And not the rest of us?”

Data tilted his head. “I cannot answer that.”

“What? Why not?”

“It would be a breach of confidentiality.”

Geordi set his elbows on the table. “ _Whose_ confidentiality?”

Data looked at them each in turn. “All of yours.”

They all looked at each other in consternation. What could he be talking about?

Julian leaned back and crossed his arms. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m terribly curious.”

“Yeah, I want to hear this,” Geordi added.

They turned to Barclay. He pursed his lips. Looked away, scratched his head. Finally, he took a breath. “Yeah, okay.”

Data studied each of his table partners. “Are you all sure?” They each nodded in agreement. “Well, seeing as how each of you has come to me multiple times for android-human relations research purposes..”


End file.
